Painted
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: Ghosts are feared psionic assassins, supposedly the epitome of stealth, strength and human evolution. But if that's the case, then why do they like using nukes so much?


_A/N_

_So yeah, another oneshot based on _StarCraft II _unit quotes, this time for the Ghost. Glad to see that they've become even more psychotic in addition to being more useful units than they were over a decade ago. Makes me want to use Spectres even more..._

* * *

**Painted**

"Whenever I see a world untouched by war, a world of innocence, a world of lush forests and clear rivers...I just wanna nuke the crap out of it!"

UNN reporter Kate Lockwell blinked. Having asked the Ghost in front of her what it felt like to be on Haven, a planet that the Dominion was currently trying to protect, the last response she'd expected was an apparent desire to reduce it to a nuclear wasteland. And while Anderson would no doubt cast the statement as reinforcement of proposed scorched earth policies, chances were UNN's editor in chief would remove the line altogether.

_Right. Doesn't stop me from worrying though..._

Tapping her psi-screen in a vague attempt to ensure it was functional, Kate knew that worry was something she'd dealt with over the last three years by her own choice. Worry that Hawkins was indeed the norm of the Dominion Marine Corps and that other planets would suffer the same fate as Candore. Worry that the powers that be would pick up on her actual lack of loyalty to the Dominion, even while playing the role of Dominion patsy. And right now, having been assigned to interview a psychic assassin on the latest world under attack by the Swarm, worry that her psi-screen would give out and she'd have her brain fried.

That the Ghost was less than PI8 didn't really provide comfort.

"Um...I see," said the reporter awkwardly, brushing back same of her hair and wishing she'd remembered to pack her usual beret. "I'm sure the citizens of the Dominion will be happy to know that our finest are willing to seize victory no matter the cost."

"Seize victory?" the assassin rasped, tilting his enclosed head to one side. "That's not my job. All I do is guide down the thunder...and then deal with it."

Kate supposed that guiding down the thunder was a reference to painting a target for a nuclear strike, and that "dealing with it" was some kind of layman's attempt at "reaping the whirlwind." Supposedly the Ghost Academy's academic intellectual status wasn't as high as Director Bick claimed it to be.

_And you would know..._came the voice of the reporter's conscience, a voice that sounded more and more like Zack every day. _You interviewed him once, remember?_

Shaking off the memories of the _Victory_, Kate adjusted the angle of her holo-camera. She wasn't a cameraman, but she'd rather have the risk of losing another friend be reduced to nothing at the cost of some great shots any day. Besides, clad head to toe in a hostile environment suit, the Ghost wasn't exactly the most photogenic individual in the Koprulu Sector.

"So...tell me, what are your pastimes?" Kate asked, remembering Anderson's request to explore the possibility of putting a human face on the Dominion's assassins. "I mean, you're obviously dedicated to the defence of humanity and all but-..."

"Horseshoes."

Kate blinked...twice. "I beg your pardon?"

"Horseshoes," the Ghost repeated. "It's a good game."

"I see..."

"Yeah...just like in nuclear strikes, being close counts..."

Kate knew she was no expert in military matters, but even so, she had to wonder what the point was of having assassins if all they seemed to do was guide down tactical nuclear missiles. Oh sure, she'd heard some remarkable/horrifying tales of what Ghosts could do, tales that she herself had helped exaggerate, but even so...

"So...horseshoes..." the reporter said uneasily. "You play by yourself?"

"Solo operative," grunted the Ghost. "Just like you, right?"

"What?"

"No cameraman, no tech crew, it's just yourself. We're very much alike Ms. Lockwell."

"...don't say that. Ever."

That, Kate knew, wasn't the most diplomatic thing she could have said and given how the Ghost's holstered sidearm suddenly seemed more obvious than it had once been, possibly not the safest either. Then again, there was only so much observation she could take when she wasn't the one doing the observing, especially when the Ghost had a point. Because while horseshoes wasn't her favourite sport in the world and she had no desire to unleash the power of the atom on invading aliens, she too, was a loner. And surrounded by marines and their commanders, at least half of whom were resocs, it sickened her to know that the Ghost might be the only one who understood.

_Course he'd probably kill me if he knew the full story..._

"I see that we're running out of time," Kate lied, looking at her timepiece to reinforce her phony point. "So just one more question."

"Fire away."

Repressing a shudder at the analogy, the reporter pressed on. "All the commanders I've talked to indicate that Haven could go either way. As someone who goes into the field deeper than most others, I have to ask, what's your assessment of the situation."

The Ghost remained silent, putting his chin on his palm in what Kate supposed was deep thought. Either that or her was performing some kind of psionic technique. Or maybe...just maybe...

_Maybe this is it..._Kate thought to herself. _Maybe I'll get an insightful answer. Maybe I'll get something that reveals the true nature of the Ghost Program. Maybe I'll even get-..._

"All I can say are that the projections point to bomby weather with a chance of mushroom clouds."

_Damn it!_


End file.
